


The Keys to the House

by oneiriad



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-05 14:18:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/724259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneiriad/pseuds/oneiriad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They bring him a Bible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Keys to the House

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer** : not mine, just playing  
>  **A/N** : written and set after episode 3.

The moon grows full in the nighttime sky and the moon grows thin like the sickles kept in Ragnar Lothbrok's house. Athelstan works.

Most of the work on the farm is familiar enough to him, similar to what the monks did at Lindisfarne. Feeding the animals, weeding among the crops, washing, cooking, brewing. Gyda - seemingly only half-taught herself - tries her best to teach him to use her mother's great loom and he worries that he'll ruin Lagertha's work, while Bjorn sits at the table and mocks the pair of them for their clumsiness.

Athelstan works, and as he works, the keys - three of them, large, heavy iron keys - are an unfamiliar weight at his belt. He finds his hand straying to them at times, wrapping around their irregular forms, and he's reminded of Lagertha tying them to his belt, and then Ragnar had stepped forward, framed Athelstan's face in his hands and touched their foreheads together. Smiled.

"Take good care of them, priest."

In the evenings, Gyda asks for stories.

"Tell me the story of Loki's bet," she begs. "Tell me the story of the time Thor's hammer was stolen. Tell me the story of how Freya got Brísingamen."

Instead of stories he does not know, he tells her those he do - he tells her of Jonah who was devoured by the whale, of Samson bringing down the temple, of Moses defying the Pharao, and she seems content, and even Bjorn is quiet and attentive in the evenings, even if by day he's back to his usual, scowling self.

The moon grows full again. It is nearing noon and Athelstan is cooking when he hears the shrieks of happy children. He goes outside and finds himself enfolded in Ragnar's arms, clasped in a bear hug, and lips press to his for just a moment before he is put back on his feet, only for Lagertha to take Ragnar's place. Athelstan is dizzy, dizzy and relieved to see the pair of them and not at all sure why he is relieved.

He tries to give Lagertha back her keys, but she stops him.

"You might as well keep them yet a while, priest. Summer is far from over."

They sit and eat the food Athelstan cooked and drink the beer Athelstan brewed, and they laugh. Ragnar tells of England, and Athelstan listens, at once hungry for word of his homeland and yet lost as the story of the raid unfolds, blood tainting Ragnar's words and the man doesn't even seem to care. Lagertha laughs, hangs a fine gold necklace around Gyda's neck, gives both the children fine daggers. Bjorn crawls into his father's lap, carefully touches a half-healed cut above Ragnar's eye, demands the story behind it.

The summer day is long. Dusk comes late.

Finally Lagertha gathers her children, settles them and begins a story about the building of a wall. Athelstan crawls into his corner, opens the Gospel of St. John, starts to read, to take comfort from its words like so many nights before. Then Ragnar sits down next to him, settling a bag between his legs before slinging a casual arm around Athelstan's shoulders.

"Gyda tells me we have something to look forward to this winter, that you know many good stories."

"I... Yes. I know some stories," and Athelstan swallows at the sound of 'winter' and all that it entails, but Ragnar just smiles.

"We brought a gift for you - from your England," and he bends down to get it out of the bag.

It is a Bible. They've brought him a Bible. Large and leatherbound and beautifully illuminated, and he lets his fingers run down the sides, turns to the first page and whispers the words: _In principio creavit Deus caelum et terram._

There is a dark stain at the bottom corner of the Bible. Athelstan feels his eyes sting, then hurriedly closes the book so as not to stain the parchment further.

From somewhere far away he hears Ragnar's voice, and then hands are tugging at the Bible, trying to take it away from him, and he wraps his arms around it, clings protectively to the holy book, scoots back towards the wall. The keys that he has not yet removed for the night digs painfully into his side.

When Ragnar wraps his arms around him, Athelstan is lost.


End file.
